


If Time Is A Golden Sun

by robodork



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Being Sad In Cornfields, Character Study, Drabble, Gen, M/M, Starts Pre-Canon And Moves Forward From There, Wanderlust, Yes There's A Treasure Planet Reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 04:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17175467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robodork/pseuds/robodork
Summary: vaguely poetic character study of james t kirk





	If Time Is A Golden Sun

He's fourteen or so

shaggy golden head bobbing through the corn.

_He looks a lot like George, does't he?_

He's seen the photos but he's still not sure he's his father's son beyond the blond and the blue. He knows the number better than anybody.

800 lives saved, his own included,

and how the hell is he ever going to measure up to that?

He wants to go back and see him, tell him there must be a mistake, he  _can't_ be the son of _that_ George Kirk,

but time doesn't work that way. Or he thinks it doesn't.

He trudges amongst the corn stalks, feeling small and inconsequential, the blue sky stretching overheard looking like the only inviting things for miles. Corn that way. Wheat that way. Dirt Iowan roads. It's home. But he's seen too much of it. Maybe he can't measure up to his father, but he sure as hell can get out there too.

He stops, tilts his head back, and lets the air fill his lungs. He is here for now.

***

He should have been at the Academy by now but suddenly it doesn't seem so inviting

So instead he spends his evenings hopping bar to bar

Round and round like a clock.

There aren't many places to go that he hasn't already been in asscrack nowhere Midwest USA.

He might like it if it wasn't the only place he'd ever been,

And the sky still looks mighty tantalizing.

It's night now, and he loves gazing at the stars, but they start to bleed and blur as he gets drunker. They look like they're practically melting off the sky at this point.

He thinks his liver might be melting too, not that he wants to see a doctor about it.

One bar each night, one more neon light he's stared into until he's seeing pink flamingoes dance in the corners of his eyes.

And this is a night no different, he expects, bass pumping so hard and rhythmically it feels like a replacement for a good fuck. He could use one right now.

He's not attracted to the cadet but flirts anyway, and she's not interested. He knows he doesn't have a shot, but everything he says sounds like flirting anyway and eventually he's socked in the jaw. 

The girl is smart. Jim almost feels like he could hang out with her in another life, but he can't think about that as the cadets in crimson uniforms gang up on him, and then he's splayed on a table, bleeding the color of the outfits of his assailants, feeling like his ears are splitting open from a piercing whistle.

The man has a fatherly face. He doesn't want to trust him but he does, and for once in his entire life, he listens. Suspicion melts away slowly and is replaced by something he hasn't felt in a long time.

Determination.

Jim Kirk knows one thing walking away from the bar that night. He's about to rattle the stars.

***

There's still blood on his shirt and his face throbs in the early morning cold as he mounts his bike. The fog condenses on his face. He wishes he could tell people he's leaving, but he's terrified of having second thoughts. And so he goes into the morning mist, whizzing by peaceful fields, towards the blue lights in the distance, which get all the more beautiful as he gets closer and closer. 

He stops as soon as the ship is in full view. He has time to kill and really he needs to just admire it. It's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, even though it looks an awful lot like his dad's old ship.

He shakes the thought off and continues on his way.

***

He's known Spock for not that long but he knows one thing.

He may be a bitch, but he sure is an attractive bitch.

He likes the curve of his ears, the graceful angle of his eyebrows, the delicate cupid's bow of his lips. 

Pity he doesn't like him so much. And the feeling is mutual.

He envies Spock when Pike is gone. Maybe Jim could be captain of a starship for at least twelve minutes too.

The anxiety of Pike being gone eats away at him for what feels like a millennium, until the only thing that can possibly distract him is the fact that he's been dumped on goddamned Planet Antarctica or whatever it was called.

After ten minutes of mortal terror, he's even more done than he thought he was. His heart is pounding and he feels chilled to the bone, and he feels like he's about to lose his footing for the umpteenth time when his savior removes the hood. There's no way this ancient Vulcan is Spock, but the more he gawks the more he starts to see it.

He likes this Spock more.

The Vulcan tells him his story, and Jim is shocked by what he must do. he feels the staggering loss Spock does, and his meeting of the engineer and his pine cone-esque friend is not nearly enough of a comfort. He's just witnessed more genocide via mind-meld.

Before Spock sends him off, he takes Jim close and tells him he has somebody else he likes to meet, but it's going to have to wait.

Time is not working in Jim's favor it seems. Earth is on the verge of collapse. Pike might be dead at any second. Somehow the feeling of dread is not new.

Every time the other Spock's fist connects with Kirk's face, he can feel his anger, and it takes all his willpower not to fight back. The whole empath thing is tripping him out, but he craves more of Spock's cool, graceful hands just the same, but gentler. Kirk feels a horrible cough bubbling from inside himself, but as Spock leaves the bridge, shoulders hunched, he feels something not unlike pride. Maybe he is is father's son. Because he's in command of the Enterprise.

***

He's Captain now. He loves the feel of the word on his tongue. He really is living up to the Kirk reputation after all, and he's fine with that for the most part. Spock Prime tells him to find his own path now, but he has no idea what it might means. He's sitting in his bed, trying to psych himself up when he gets a message from a yeoman. There's another Kirk who wants to speak with him. Jim doesn't bother to put on a shirt before he picks up the call, but defensively crosses his arms over his chest.

Another Kirk.

He almost drops his coffee mug when the screen in his room flickers to life. It's an old man, definitely, but with a charming smile somehow years younger than the rest of him. He has his eyes, but sparkling hazel. His hair is fluffy and gray, and a small pair of spectacles is perched atop his nose, glinting like crystals from an unknown light source. There's no doubting it though. That's James Tiberius Kirk as well. He grips his coffee mug, hands wobbling.

"Hey, Jim." says the old man, face full of mischief.

Jim can't help but smile. "Hey, Jim."

They talk for hours. He can miss a shift for once. Two golden suns from opposite universes join in laughing and talking. They're two peas in a pod, considering they're the same person. The Kirks' conversation becomes quiet suddenly when blue-eyed Jim asks the million dollar question.

"Do I love him? Spock?"

Hazel eyed Jim is quiet for a small stretch. He debates whether to tell his young counterpart. He inhales deeply before he answers. "Yes."

Blue-eyed Jim isn't sure what emotion he feels. It spreads through his chest, makes him feel warm. He nods firmly. There are so many words which he can't quite express in any known language. They end the call on a warm note, promising to keep in touch.

Kirk realizes.

He's on a path for himself. This is about the future, never the past. He doesn't need to turn back time to talk to George Kirk after all. If there are people able to turn back time in order to speak with him, he knows it must be important. And Kirk can't turn time back himself, so maybe it's okay.

 


End file.
